


A Story by Definitely Not Elmer

by SparkyIsSpiders



Category: Original Work
Genre: But that would be a lie, Gen, I'd like to say that this is the stupidest thing I've ever written, One swear, Rated teen for language, This might be the dumbest thing I have written in recent memory., dear god, send help, there's like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkyIsSpiders/pseuds/SparkyIsSpiders
Summary: This story was written by somebody who isn't Elmer. Totally. It's by me, -insert cool name here- (Bloodfist? Storm? Ultranuke Blaze? Deathfire? Icedragonheart?).





	A Story by Definitely Not Elmer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bizarre, completely unedited mess I pumped out in roughly 30 minutes. You have been warned.

The basement of the supermarket was a very strange place. First of all, there wasn’t any storage: no shelves, no crates, no nothing. Just plain, bare walls and plain, bare floors. The lights on the ceiling were dim, which was probably the only normal thing about this supermarket basement. They were also strange colors, such as green and blue and pink, which was less normal.

This unassuming basement was the headquarters of the survivors of the zombie apocalypse, which made complete sense and wasn’t at all strange. Sure, there were multiple exits (one that led to the rest of the grocery store, one that led outside, and one in the bathroom), and sure, there was no way to see anyone coming from this very traditional survival bunker thing, but the leader of the survivor probably knew what he was doing. The grocery store upstairs was surprisingly well-stocked for the apocalypse. Dry food items lined very accessible lined the shelves and were surely never stolen by interlopers who needed a quick snack. Black and white cookies set in a yellow crate near the abandoned cash registers. The lack of protection for this precious, delicious commodity was a true tragedy, even sadder than the end of the world.

The survivors themselves were exactly what you would probably expect maybe. They were camo jackets, carried even more guns than an NRA supporter, and looked like they hadn’t shaved or showered in at least a few days. They were ready and willing to defend this place (although, due to a complete lack of intelligence and common sense, they were not properly defending its precious, wonderful cookies) to the bitter end. They had been valiantly defending their supermarket base for many years, but now, in a desperate and pitched battle, they were slowly being worn down. Wave after wave of brain-starved zombies were marching on the grocery store. Every time one zombie was mowed down, another ten took its place. The survivors were going to lose. This supermarket was falling.

“I can’t believe that we’re all gonna die...” one of them whispered while a single tear rolled down her dirt-stained cheek.

“What about the black and white cookies? If we die here, now, who will protect them?” shouted the best survivor in a way that was both badass and very attractive and not at all whiny and stupid ( _John_ ). John is an asshole and in this story he gets eaten by zombies because I don’t like him (what do you mean I’m petty? Your face is petty!). The name of the very attractive person who totally has the right priorities is uhh… umm… (Note to self: insert cool name later) (Volcanokick? Nuck Choris? Lightningknuckle? Sataneater?).

“God, shut up Elmer. Nobody cares about your stupid goddamn cookies.” shouted another survivor to somebody who was definitely not me because my name isn’t Elmer. My name is -repeat cool name here- (Phoenixbloodman? Vampireslayer? Thunderfist? Zombiepuncher?).

Anyway. There were zombies. There were tons of zombies. And it wasn’t long before they flooded the survivors. But instead of attacking the survivors, they moved into the store beyond them. I -insert cool name here- watched in horror as the zombies committed the greatest atrocity I had ever seen. They began to eat the black and white cookies… The survivors could only watch as zombies flooded the store, munching through bags of bread and boxes of pasta. Because these… these weren’t ordinary zombies.

These were vegetarian zombies.

And what they craved was GRAAAAINS.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I should probably explain why I wrote this. Basically, I go to this creative writing camp thing, and we had a reunion today. One of the activities we did was flash fiction based on a location that we could distinctly remember. The location I chose was from an anxiety dream I had about the zombie apocalypse (hence the weird basement at the beginning). This is the result.
> 
> My sincerest apologies.


End file.
